Lost Love Found
by Siancore
Summary: Rick and Michonne had a relationship in the past, but separated on bad terms. She has returned; will they rekindle their romance or hurt one another again? Written for 'Richonne Love Letters Challenge' Tumblr: 'Lost Love Found – The one that got away comes back around. How do you let them know how you feel' I extended this one-shot as per readers' requests.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Written for the 'Richonne Love Letters Challenge' by **richonnefics** on Tumblr - **_Day 3: Lost Love Found_** _– The one that got away comes back around. How do you let them know how you feel?_

I have extended this one-shot. Planning on adding another chapter after this.

* * *

The sun shone down on her bare arms and the soft breeze offered reprieve from the striking heat. The warmth was one of the things that Michonne had missed the most while she had lived up North. She could hardly believe it was seven years since she had been back to Georgia. She had missed the easy-going nature of the locals; the friendliness and helpfulness that the people imbued the small town with. She really felt like she was home.

She smiled and looked around the small living room; there were not that many boxes she needed to unpack. When she left King County all those years ago, she only took what she could carry in one bag. Her mind drifted back to that time, and she felt a small pang of regret wash over her. That was short lived as there came a knocking on her front door. Knowing it could only be her close friends, Michonne smiled and answered the door. She was met by Sasha, Maggie, and Jesus; each wearing wide grins. They hugged Michonne in turn and then entered the house.

"This is nice," said Sasha as examined the premises.

"I think I was in here once before," said Maggie. "Back in high school at some party."

"It's cute," Jesus offered.

"Oh my gosh, Michonne!" Maggie exclaimed before hugging her friend once more. "I can't believe you're actually here."

"I know," said Michonne.

"We're glad you're back," said Jesus.

"Yeah," Sasha agreed as she peeped around from the corridor. "We missed you."

"I missed you guys, too," said Michonne. "And thanks so much for helping me unpack."

"Don't mention it," said Jesus, before adding, "Let's get started.

xXxXx

"You gonna say something?" asked Jesus, as he drank down the last of his coffee.

"Nothin' to say," said Rick while peering out of his kitchen window; he was overcome by a number of contradictory emotions.

Upon hearing that the love of his life, Michonne, had returned, he felt his stomach drop. He felt hopeful and sad, irritated and happy. His heart beat faster, yet ached at the same time. He was angry with himself for feeling that fleeting moment of joy when Jesus had informed him that she was back in town. He then felt guilty for wishing she had never come back at all.

"Are you at least gonna ask what she's doing here?" Jesus questioned his friend.

Rick shrugged.

"No," he said, before taking a seat back at the kitchen table. "Don't care."

That was a lie. Rick cared very much about what his lost love was doing. At the beginning, he would ask their mutual friends about her wellbeing, but it only hurt his heart even more to know that she was well; that she was happy in her career choice; that she was doing fine without him. He had always suspected he loved her more than she did him. Why else, he pondered, would it be so easy for her to leave what they had? What he was unaware of, in his heartbreak and sadness, was that she was hurting for him as well.

Alas, that was years ago and Rick thought he was over her for good. This news regarding her return had shaken him to his core. So he lied to their friend, even though Jesus knew that the feelings were still there.

"Okay," said Jesus. "Just giving you the heads up in case you run into her at the store or something."

Rick sighed.

"I hope not," he offered flatly, fallaciously. "But since y'all are still best buds, maybe you could do me a favor?"

"What is it?" asked.

"Drop some of her shit back to her that she left here," said Rick, trying to hide a lot of his hurt.

"Sure," said Jesus as he stood from the table and approached the sink. "But it'll have to wait until later tonight 'cause I've gotta run."

"Okay, I'm rostered on tonight. Take my backdoor key. I'll leave the stuff on the table for you," said Rick as he removed the key and handed it to his friend. "Just take it all. I don't want it here anymore. And thank you."

Jesus nodded and gave Rick a small smile, "It's no trouble at all."

xXxXx

The box was brimming with items that Michonne had left and Rick had held onto. A headband or two; several comic books and novels; some items of clothing; and a multi-colored cat sculpture. Rick held the colourful cat in his hands and smiled at the object. He never really liked it, but Michonne adored the thing. When they split up, she left with such haste that she forgot to take it. Suddenly, Rick felt sad again as he placed the statue into the box.

Running his fingers through his hair, he walked to one of the drawers in the kitchen and retrieved writing materials. He knew he did not want to see Michonne just yet, but he would write her note.

 _To Michonne_ , it started. _Here are some of your things you left. I kept them safe for you…._

"Damn it," said Rick as he scrunched the note up and tossed it on the floor; unhappy with what he had written and feeling like it was a charade.

He took another piece of lined paper and began another note.

 _Michonne, here's your shit you left behind when you dumped me…_

Rick stopped and then tore that page from the writing pad too, giving it the same fate at the other. That was not what he wanted to say at all; that was too crass. Taking a deep breath, Rick began to write:

 _Dear Michonne_ ,

 _It's been a while. I heard you were back in town, Jesus told me. But you already knew that._

 _Honestly, I was conflicted about the news. I wanted to know why, after all this time, and after what happened between us, did you decide to come back to King County? I don't have any right to ask. I'm sorry if I overstepped. Somewhere inside I kind of hoped that it was for me. But that's just foolish of me to think that way._

 _I hope your life has treated you well. I always knew you'd be successful where ever you were. I'm just sorry it couldn't have been with me._

He stopped a moment and held the pen to his lips. There was something therapeutic about writing his feelings down. Even though he had no intention of ever letting her see the letter. Feeling better, Rick continued to write his most sincere and private thoughts:

 _It's been hard for me, all this time, wondering what could have been between us. I always imagined that we'd have a couple of kids running around the yard. You looking beautiful as ever; radiant and pregnant. Me with a potbelly and a smile. Us, happy and healthy._

 _I shouldn't be thinking things like that. I shouldn't be writing things like this. What we had is gone. We both made sure of that. I guess I've never really stopped loving you. I never stopped caring. Honestly, I've always loved you and probably always will. I'm just sad tha…_

Before Rick could continue with his thoughts, finish writing the letter, or discard it like the others, he heard a horn blaring out the front of his house; he knew it was his partner, Shane, who was late as usual, there to pick him up. He dropped the pen, picked up his hat and made his way quickly towards the door.

xXxXx

The bright light from Rick's kitchen disoriented Jesus a little as he entered from the darkness outside. He saw the box sitting on the table and the notepad next to it; he glanced quickly, and upon seeing the note addressed to Michonne, tore it from the pad, folded it and placed it in the box. He left the light on for Rick, exited from the same door, and locked the house again.

…..

Michonne and Sasha were still sitting out on the former's front porch when Jesus showed up, lugging a brown cardboard box with him.

"That better be more wine," said Sasha as he made his way up the steps.

"Unfortunately, it's not," he laughed. "A box of things belonging to Michonne, actually."

The woman in question gave him an odd stare.

"From Deputy Rick Grimes," Jesus explained. "A bunch of stuff he probably should've thrown away years ago."

Jesus plopped it down on the small table; Michonne looked dubiously at it.

"Well, you gonna open it?" asked Sasha.

Michonne sighed, "It's probably just some books I left there."

"Let's find out then," said Jesus.

Michonne rolled her eyes at her friends and then opened the box. She saw something that looked like her beloved cat sculpture, before seeing that there was a piece of paper. She took the note out, unfolded it and began to read.

…..

"I think we're gonna need more wine," said Michonne as she folded the letter and gripped it tight in her slender hand.

"What did the note say?" asked Sasha, looking at the crumpled paper and then back at her friends eyes that were now glazed over. Michonne fought back the tears that threatened to fall.

"Nothing," she lied, blinking rapidly a few times. "I'm just being…"

"Sentimental?" Jesus asked as Michonne nodded her head.

"Yeah," she replied. " _Sentimental_. I mean, will you look at this stuff."

She reached into the box and pulled out her beloved sculpture. Smiling, Michonne ran her hand over the bright, patchy colors.

"I got this at a car boot sale after Rick and I moved in together," she explained. "We were looking for some things for the house that would, I don't know, add my flair to it, I guess. Anyways, I found this and Rick hated it!"

"I can see why," Jesus chimed in. "It's hideous."

"Hey!" said Michonne as she shoved him playfully. "This is too damn gorgeous. Anyways, I loved it and he hated it, but we kept it because it was actually the first thing we disagreed on but put our differences aside for."

She went quiet while the bright smile faded slowly from her face as she thought about their relationship. As she thought about how good they were together; how they could see past all of the bad things in life and focus on one another.

"Well, I like it," said Sasha as she took the cat from her friends grasp after noticing the change in her demeanour. "What else have you got there?"

"Hmmm. Some of this stuff looks like his, not mine," she held up a brown t-shirt. "Yep. That's definitely Rick's…"

xXxXx

The moon was in another position in the sky than it was at the start of the evening by the time the friends were ready to go their separate ways. Sasha helped Michonne clear the wine glasses away, while Jesus took out the trash. The sound of a horn alerted Sasha and let her know her ride had arrived. She bid her friends goodnight with hugs and left. Jesus debated on whether or not he should walk off the alcohol or get a cab; he decided on the former. Michonne walked him to the door and hugged her friend goodnight.

"Thanks again for all the help today," she proffered.

"Don't mention it. I didn't mind at all," Jesus replied.

"Hey," said Michonne. "Can I get Rick's number from you?"

Jesus gave her an odd look; he raised an eyebrow in her direction.

"Mich, are you sure?" he queried. "You're a little tipsy and I wouldn't want you to do or say something you're going to regret later."

"That's why I love you," she offered as she swayed a little, unsteady on her feet from the wine she had consumed. "But there are a few things he sent over that aren't mine."

"I can take them for you…"

" _Dude_. It isn't fair on you to be the go-between," she explained. "Besides, we're adults; I'm sure we can manage seeing one another again."

Jesus nodded his head, "All right, then."

He retrieved his phone and searched his contacts; finding Rick's name and number, Jesus sent the details to Michonne's phone. A small beep sounded when the message had come through; she glanced at her display screen and gave her friend a smile.

"Thank you," she said. "For everything."

…..

Even if she had had a big night out, or a quiet one at home, Michonne always went through her nightly regimen. After washing up, applying her favorite lotion, wrapping her hair, and brushing her teeth, she made her way to bed. Pulling back the covers, Michonne settled in and then checked her phone. Jesus had sent a text to let her know he made it home safely; Sasha sent her a silly selfie. Michonne smiled and then looked at the message that contained Rick's contact details. She then saved said details to her phone.

After a moment, she realized she had been staring at her screen; the name _Rick Grimes_ burned into her vision. Blinking a few times before biting her bottom lip, Michonne contemplated sending a text. Feeling brave from the alcohol, she clicked on his name and opened a blank message. Taking a deep breath, she typed a few lines:

 _Hi Rick. It's Michonne. Jesus gave me your number. Did you want to meet-up sometime?_

After exhaling, she hit the _send_ button.

….

"Here," said Shane as he handed the coffee over to his partner; Rick did not look at him, engrossed in something on his phone. "Rick?"

"Sorry," said Rick as he took the beverage from his friend. "Just a message I wasn't expectin'."

"Oh yeah? Whose it from?"

"Michonne," he said softly; taking care with how her name rolled off of his tongue.

"Michonne?" asked Shane incredulously. "She's back, uh? What does that bitch want?"

" _Don't_ ," warned Rick as he placed his phone back in his pocket; a loud sigh escaped his mouth.

"Well I sure a shit hope you didn't reply to her," said Shane as he placed his coffee into the cup holder and started the squad car. Rick shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Mind your business. Don't worry 'bout me," said Rick, knowing that his friend's advice was for naught since he had already sent a response to Michonne.

…..

The sound of her device vibrating against the wooden top of the night stand caught Michonne's attention as she rolled over in the darkened room. Squinting, with one eye closed, she glanced at the display; she had received a reply from Rick. A sudden fluttering in her stomach occurred as a smile spread across her face. She opened the massage that read:

 _Hey. Yeah. I'd like that._

* * *

A/N: Who's ready for a reunion?


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for the amazing response to this. Here's some more for your enjoyment.

* * *

"Maggie," said Michonne over the phone. "I did a really stupid thing."

"Come on," Maggie offered. "It can't be that bad. You've only been back in town for less than a week…"

"I sent Rick a drunk text."

"I'm sorry," said Maggie. "For a minute there I thought you said you sent Rick Grimes, your ex, with whom you ended things badly with, a drunk text…"

"I did."

"Michonne…"

"I know, I know. You don't need to lecture me," she supplied. "I already called myself every version of stupid that I could think of."

"What were you thinking?" Maggie asked. "How did you find his number?"

"A friend of ours, young Paul Rovia sent it to me," Michonne admitted sheepishly.

"You can't see me right now, but I am shakin' my head," said Maggie with a sigh. "So tell me, did you make a fool of yourself?"

"Not yet," she answered. "But I guess that's coming soon because we're going to catch up."

"What?"

"That's what I sent to Rick, an invite to catch up…"

"Michonne!"

"I know, I know! Maggie, what am I gonna do?" asked Michonne as he friend sighed once more.

"You go and meet Rick, get some closure, and move on with your life once and for all," said Maggie.

"Sage advice, as always," Michonne proffered. "There's just one thing."

"Oh yeah, what's that?"

"I'm pretty sure Rick still has feelings for me," said Michonne.

"How do you know? Did he say somethin'?" Maggie queried.

Michonne sighed, "It was in the note he left for me."

xXxXx

"What's going on?" asked Jesus as he sat at Rick's kitchen table, his eyes narrow and questioning. He noted that his friend seemed a little anxious.

"Nothin' important," said Rick. "Hey, I wanted to ask you something…"

"If it's about giving Michonne your number, I'm sorry," said Jesus, sitting up straighter in his seat. "She didn't want me to be the go-between and I figured the two of you are grown…"

"Nah, it ain't that," said Rick. "That's fine. I'm actually glad you did. We're gonna meet up."

"Really?" asked Jesus, half a smile playing on his features. "You didn't seem like you wanted anything to do with her yesterday."

"I had time to think about it, and this is a small town," said Rick. "We're bound to run into each other sooner or later, so we're gonna get coffee this weekend. Besides, there are a few things that we need to talk about. But that's not what I wanted to ask you. There was a note on the table near her stuff that I had boxed up. Did you see it? I don't know where I could have put it…"

"Oh, I stuck it in the box for you," said Jesus.

"What?"

"The note," Jesus replied. "You said take everything on the table; the note was addressed to Michonne, so I put it in the box with the rest of the things."

"Shit," said Rick.

"Is everything okay? Was I not meant to, or…?"

Rick pinched the bridge of his nose.

"No, I didn't want her to see it."

"Shit, I'm sorry, man," Jesus said in earnest.

"It's okay," he offered. "It's not your fault."

Rick started to pace; he felt his face flush warm when it occurred to him that the more likely than not had read what he had written. Was that the reason she wanted to meet with him? What was she going to say? The sinking feeling in his stomach caused him to take up a seat. He ran his hand through his hair and stared at nothing in particular.

"Rick," Jesus finally said, noticing that the color had drained from his friend's face. "Whatever you're worried about, it's gonna be okay."

Rick looked at Jesus and then nodded his head; he tried to convince himself that things would indeed be fine.

xXxXx

It seemed the weekdays had flown by quickly and the day for Rick and Michonne to reunite was soon upon them. He was already at the quaint little coffee shop that they used to frequent when they were friends, and then lovers. With the exception of a new paint job, the establishment remained the same. The people who owned it all those years ago were the same; the aroma of the coffee was the same. Rick, like always, arrived before Michonne; the warm sun felt the same as it did when they use to spend lazy Sundays at the café. The only thing that was different was that they were not on the best of terms after all the time that had passed.

After checking the time on his phone, Rick placed the device back into his pocket and lifted his head. His breath caught in his throat when he saw Michonne walking towards him. She strode with determination, her head held high and her hips swaying. Her hair was pulled away from her face in a ponytail; her expression was soft. She held her purse and phone in one hand her; her clothes were smart yet casual. He could have sworn she had not aged a day since they had separated.

Instinctively, Rick straightened up his clothing and brushed aside one of his stray curls; he stood, readying himself to greet Michonne. A coy smile played on her features as she came to a halt in front of him.

"Hello," said Michonne.

"Hello," Rick replied.

Reaching her arms out, she embraced him in a quick hug. There was no awkwardness to it, only familiarity and the slight longing on Rick's part. They each took a seat.

"It's really nice to see you, Rick," she said sincerely; his heart fluttered at the way she said his name.

"Yeah," he replied, unable to draw his gaze away from her. "It's, uh, it's nice seeing you, too. You look great."

"Thank you. You look well. I'm sorry if this seems kind of sudden or out of the blue," she admitted, searching his sad blue eyes.

"That's okay," he offered. "I knew you were back in town, so I expected us to run in to one another at some point. I'm just glad that you made contact with me."

Michonne smiled and nodded her head.

"Should we order?" she asked.

"Sure," Rick answered.

…..

After his initial nerves had died down, Rick fell into easy conversation with Michonne. They spoke about what they were doing with their lives and the time passed quickly; they had been sitting and talking for almost an hour. Michonne was not at all surprised that he was still working as a Sheriff's Deputy. He loved his job; he loved being able to help people. It was one of the things that attracted her to him in the beginning: his genuine willingness to help his community and the people who lived in it. He really cared for his small town and the residents of it.

Michonne oft times wished that she had that kind of connection with some place, _any_ place. It was one of the reasons why she found it easy to uproot herself often and seek out greener pastures. Though, she felt as if King County was as good a place as any to settle down; and after all of the time she had spent living and working far away from the picturesque, charming place, she was drawn back there.

After wiping her mouth with a napkin, Michonne leaned both elbows on the table as her countenance grew serious.

"Look, Rick," she started. "I just wanted to apologize."

He furrowed his brow and then leaned back in his seat; his own expression became firm.

"That was a long time ago," he offered.

"I know, but I still think it needs to be said," she remarked. "We didn't end it on good terms, and that never did sit right with me."

He listened intently, knowing that the conversation was going to head in this very direction eventually.

"I really do want to say I'm sorry for the part I played in it," she added.

"Me too," said Rick with understanding. "I'm sorry too."

"Thank you," said Michonne. "That means a lot to me. I'd really like us to be friends again."

Rick smiled. "I'd like that as well."

Michonne returned his smile and then decided that at that moment she would not reach into her purse and retrieve the incomplete letter that Rick had written. She felt almost giddy at the thought of his words: _I've always loved you and probably always will._

Before she could stop herself, she said, "Great, we should hang out again soon."

"I'm not busy tonight," said Rick almost too hurriedly.

"Okay. Did you want to grab dinner or something?"

"Dinner sounds good," Rick replied.

"Wonderful," said Michonne. "I know I'm still settling in, but I could cook for you at my place if that's okay…"

"That's fine," said Rick. "Just text me your address and what time and I'll be there."

xXxXx

The aroma of freshly cooked Spanakorizo floated through the kitchen as Michonne checked the time once more. Much had remained the same with Rick, she had observed from their earlier rendezvous. Rick usually arrived ten minutes early to any type of engagement, so she was expecting him soon. She pressed her hands against the soft fabric of her maxi dress before fixing her hair; her locs in a high chignon atop her head. She brought her fingertips to the silver necklace that adorned her neck with the small _m_ hanging from it; a gift from Rick that she always wore. The hint of a smile ghosting over her lips. Just then, her doorbell rang. She went to greet her visitor.

Rick stepped inside after Michonne invited him in. He had changed his clothing from earlier in the day; his trusty and comfortable combination of jeans and a plaid shirt always a mainstay of his laid back, practical style. She discreetly admired his handsomeness before taking the bottle of wine he offered and leading him towards the sofa and heading to the kitchen.

"Would you like a drink?' asked Michonne, upon returning from the kitchen with the uncorked bottle in one hand, and a glass in the other; Rick nodded his head.

"Yes, thank you," he answered while taking in her appearance.

Michonne placed the glass in front of Rick on the coffee table; she walked back into the kitchen and poured a drink for herself. After taking a liberal sip, she picked up the letter from Rick, walked out into the living room, and held it up for him to see.

"Rick," she said quietly, evenly. "I read your note."

* * *

A/N: More to come!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: It has been so long since I updates this story. Please accept this offering. Enjoy!

* * *

"Excuse me?" asked Rick, unsure of if he had heard correctly. He knew she may have read the note, considering their friend had placed it in the box of her belongings, he just didn't expect her to broach the subject this soon into their evening. He felt his pulse begin to race and his mouth grow dry.

"The note that you wrote to me," she said softly, while holding his gaze. "I read it."

Rick wrung his hands and then sighed, before saying, "Jesus put it in the box with your stuff accidently. It wasn't supposed to be there. I never meant for you to see it."

Michonne stood in silence, searching his eyes. He returned the gesture a short while, but could not stare at her for much longer, so he looked away. An awkwardness permeated the space between them. Rick swallowed hard, and Michonne fidgeted with the piece of paper she was still grasping in her slender hand.

"I'm sorry," he finally supplied before meeting her gaze once more. "I really didn't mean for you to see it. I…I wrote it for myself. I had no intention of sending it to you. It's just, knowing that you were back brought up all of these feelings in me…"

"Rick…"

"It was stupid of me to even write it. I should go."

Rick stood from where he was seated, and wiped his sweaty palms against his pants.

"You don't have to go," said Michonne quickly.

"I do. I really do. It's just like old times, Michonne. Can't you feel it?" he asked, gesturing between them. "There's this thing pulling me towards you, and it just ain't the right time."

"Rick, I…I didn't mean to upset you," she offered sincerely, shaking her head. "I just wanted to be honest with you. The letter, it was beautiful…"

"Please," he said softly as he walked toward the door. "You don't have to say anything about it. Just forget you even read any of what I wrote…"

"Rick…"

"It was a mistake," he said softly. "You were never meant to see it."

"You don't have to be embarrassed," she said. "I didn't mean to upset you. I…"

"I'm sorry, Michonne," he said mournfully. "This was a bad idea."

With that, he gave her a sad smile and let himself out. As he walked down the garden path toward where his car was parked, Rick stopped a moment and glanced back at the house. Yes, he did feel embarrassed because Michonne had read his most private thoughts. However, at the same time, he wanted so badly to rush back to her front door and profess that each word was true. Instead, he climbed into the vehicle and drove home to his empty house.

xXxXx

"You know I love you," said Maggie to Michonne as they sat in the latter's kitchen. "But why would you even tell him that you read his letter?"

"I was being honest," Michonne replied. "I wanted to be friends and we can't rekindle a friendship without honesty."

"I don't know," said Sasha. "I think what he wrote was _too_ honest, Mich. Even for himself."

"Right," said Maggie. "And now I have an honest question: Did you reach out to Rick because you _knew_ he still had feelings for you?"

"What?" asked Michonne, before she got up from the table to top up her coffee.

"Don't 'what' me," Maggie said. "When you sent him that text to catch-up, was it 'cause you knew he still had feelings for you?"

"Put it this way," Sasha interjected. "If you hadn't have found that letter from him, would you have just taken your stuff that he returned, and left it at that?"

"Yeah," said Maggie. "What she said."

Michonne glanced between both of her friends as she sat back down at the table with them. She took a sip from her steaming drink and then sighed loudly, before saying, "I don't know."

"You don't know?" asked Sasha with her brow furrowed.

"Yes," said Michonne. "I don't know. That's a what-if. You know I can't do what-ifs; I don't have the luxury."

"All right," said Maggie. "Different question: Do you still have feelings for Rick?"

"Come on," Michonne offered. "You're really going to ask that?"

"I sure am!" Maggie replied animatedly.

Michonne sighed again and shook her head, "I was being nostalgic. Being back here, seeing the letter and then seeing Rick, it just brought up some sentimentality in me. Whatever I was feeling, whatever I _am_ feeling it doesn't matter now."

"Why doesn't it matter?" asked Sasha.

"Because we'll only hurt one another again," Michonne said softly, lamentingly.

"Bullshit," said Maggie.

"Excuse me?" Michonne questioned, slightly taken aback by her friend's incertitude.

"Bull. Shit," she repeated. "You only ended things badly because you're both so stubborn. You're back now; he's still here. You both obviously still love each other. So, I say bullshit. You're not worried about hurting each other; you're scared."

"Am I, Margaret?" Michonne asked, while tilting her head to the side.

"I love you…"

"Love you, too…"

"…But you're a scaredy cat," said Maggie, causing Sasha and Michonne to laugh.

"You're such a sweetheart, Maggie," said Sasha. "And you need to change up your vocabulary, but you're right. She's right, Mich, you're being a pussy."

"I know you two did not come all the way over here to insult me in my own house," Michonne replied, feigning offence.

"Listen," Maggie redirected. "We get it. You're afraid that if you try again with Rick, things won't work out."

Michonne exhaled audibly, and shook her head, before placing her palm to her forehead.

"I'm not afraid that things won't work out," Michonne admitted, before lowering her voice and saying, "I'm scared that I'll hurt Rick again."

xXxXx

Forlorn and sad-faced, Rick took a sip from his beer and stared at the wall behind the bar. The sounds of some lively song made it so the emptiness that silence exacerbated was not so stifling. He finished the drink, and then searched the area for Jesus who had, not so long ago, gone to the bathroom. When his eyes found his friend, Rick stood up from the barstool.

"I'm gonna head on home," he said, causing Jesus to look disappointed.

"You sure, buddy?"

"Yeah," Rick drawled. "Don't really feel up to stayin' out tonight."

"All right. Hey, I'm sorry about the letter," Jesus said again, for what seemed like the twentieth time that evening.

"Stop apologizin'," Rick said. "It's okay, really. I'm the asshole who wrote it. I'm the one who pushed her away, _again._ "

"Rick," Jesus said, placing his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up. Things have a way of working out in the end. You just need to let go of the past, and look to the future. Have some fun. Get out there and stop being so serious all the damn time."

"Yeah, you're right," Rick said with a small chuckle. "I should."

"Come to my dinner party in a couple of weeks," Jesus offered. "Who knows? You might meet someone there and hit it off with them."

Rick nodded his head before asking, "Is Michonne gonna be there?"

"Of course," said Jesus in a matter-of-fact way. "But that doesn't mean you won't have a good time, or that it has to be weird or whatever. Hell, bring a date if you want. Just please, _please_ come along, Rick. It'll be fun, I promise."

"Okay," Rick replied a little hesitantly. "I'll be there."

xXxXx

It took a lot for Michonne not to reach out to Rick again in the days that followed their uneasy discussion regarding his letter to her. Each time she would scroll through her phone and see his name in her contacts list, she would fight the urge to call him. She figured to needed to do something to keep herself occupied. After tossing her phone down on the bed beside her, Michonne picked up a notepad and pen, determined to make that shopping list she had been putting off. She placed the pen to her lips a moment as she stared at the blank page.

Her thoughts returned to Rick as the sentimental feelings washed over her once more. Though, the nostalgia she was feeling did not account for the tugging in her chest when she thought of Rick; the fluttering in her stomach when she pictured him; or the longing in her being when she dared to recall his touch. She inhaled, and exhaled deeply before placing the pen to the paper.

 _Dear Rick_ , she began. _I can't stop thinking about you…_

* * *

A/N: Next instalment sees our faves at the dinner party. Will Rick take Jesus' advice and look to the future? Will Michonne finish her letter to Rick? Are they going to hurt one another again? Thanks for reading!


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